


And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes

by MadameCissy



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F, Five Times, Short Drabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCissy/pseuds/MadameCissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1. Five Times Brenda Left (and one time she didn't)<br/>2. Five Times Brenda Didn't Say I Love You (and one time she did)<br/>3. Five Times Sharon Said No (and one time she didn't)<br/>4. Five Times They Almost Had An Affair (and one time they did)<br/>5. Five Times Brenda And Sharon Had Dinner (and one time they didn't)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five Times Brenda left

__

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”  
― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars 

**I**

The evening was still warm when they stepped out of the bar. The music faded into the background. The alcohol still tasted bitter in the back of her throat. The last shot of whiskey had almost burnt its way down and Brenda was glad to be able to suck in the fresh air. She leaned against the building's brick wall and shot a sideways glance at the woman beside her. Sharon Raydor's eyes were closed as she rested her head back against that same wall.

"Sharon?" Brenda asked softy. She realised their hands were still linked together. She'd grabbed Sharon's hand in the middle of the crowded bar where the whole squad had fathered to celebrate the end of a long, difficult case. Everyone, including her husband, was still inside.

Sharon's eyes opened and she looked at Brenda, green eyes wide and dark behind her glasses. She too became aware of their hands still joined and she pulled away, albeit reluctantly. She held Brenda's gaze for another moment but then looked down.

"Why did you bring me out here?" Sharon's voice was soft.

"I…." Brenda stammered. "I…."

Sharon took a deep breath. The hurt in her voice was unmistakable. She spoke softly but with determination in her voice. "Brenda, if you're not ready to face what this thing between us is, I suggest you go back inside."

"Sharon, I want…."

"You don't know what you want, Brenda," Sharon reminded the blonde. Brenda could see the hurt behind Sharon's eyes. She regretted that she was the course of that pain. "You can't keep doing this. You can't keep running to me only to leave me." She took a step towards Brenda. Soft, slender fingers touched Brenda's cheek and Sharon leaned in. They were so close that Brenda could feel Sharon's breath against her lips. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Brenda didn't say anything. She couldn't. When Sharon's lips touched hers, she felt herself shatter into a thousand pieces.

The kiss ended too soon. Sharon didn't move, didn't open her eyes. She merely pulled back. She waited, felt the wind pull at her hair, the sounds of traffic and the music as it grew louder before fading again. In her mind she counted to ten. She took a deep breath and then, when it seemed like she had waited forever, she opened her eyes.

Brenda was gone.

 

**II**

Brenda slipped out from under the sheets and shivered when the cool air touched her naked body. Her eyes adapted to the dark and she shot a glance at the illuminated numbers on the alarm clock. 01.36 am. She heaved a sigh, a sickening feeling settling in her stomach and began to look around the room for her clothes. She was grateful for the darkness masking her shame. 

She found her panties at the end of the bed, half tucked under the sheets, and her bra lay haphazardly thrown over the arm chair in the corner. Bare footed she padded across the room and found her skirt and tank top on the floor. She got dressed, her body still smelling of sex and arousal and her heart ached in her chest. 

Brenda leaned over the bed and took in the sight of the sleeping form. Brown locks were fanned out over the pillow, chest rising and falling slowly, body barely covered by the soft cotton sheets. Brenda's fingers ghosted over her lover's arm and she left a soft kiss against warm skin. She had made this mistake, this choice, many times before and she knew she would keep on making it. 

When she closed the door to Sharon's apartment behind her, Brenda took her wedding ring from the pocket of her jacket and slipped it back on her hand. 

**III**

Brenda sipped from her eggnog and swayed along to the familiar tunes of Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You." Her eyes drifted around the room. It had been the first time the LAPD Christmas Party as being held at this particular hotel and Brenda had to admit that the organisation had done an amazing job with the decoration. The room was crowded and noisy, with people mostly taking up the space on the dance floor and the area nearest to the bar. The whole thing had only been on for just over an hour and somehow a large number of people had already consumed more alcohol than they were capable of handling. The free bar was undoubtedly to blame. 

Fritz had accompanied her to the party and Brenda spotted him in the crowd as he was trying to make his way back to their table. In his left hand he held a large glass of red wine, Brenda prayed it was Merlot, and in his right a tall glass of orange juice. She briefly met his gaze but then her attention was drawn to the room's entrance. 

Sharon Raydor walked into the room dressed in a burgundy coloured dress that ended just above her knee. The cleavage was elegant, leaving enough to the imagination. Brown hair fell in waves down her shoulders and the whole ensemble was finished off by a pair of expensive looking pumps. Brenda felt herself tense up when she realised Sharon hadn't come alone but appeared to be in the company of a tall, older gentleman Brenda didn't recognise. 

She followed Sharon around the room with her eyes, watched how she and the man made their way to the bar. He ordered their drinks. Sharon moved closer to him. Too close, Brenda thought. Sharon touched the guy's arm. Anger coiled inside Brenda's stomach when she watched how Sharon put her hand on the man's forearm, leaned in closer and laughed. 

Brenda knew she was jealous. She knew she and Sharon were not here together. They weren't even anything at all. The only thing Brenda knew for sure was that she wanted to sleep with Sharon Raydor and it was driving her crazy. Not because she would be cheating on her husband if she did but because Brenda knew she couldn't have Sharon. Brenda wasn't used to not getting what she wanted. 

"Hey," Fritz said and slipped into the seat next to her. Brenda barely noticed him. Her eyes remained fixed on Sharon Raydor. He pushed the wine towards her and then followed his wife's gaze. 

"Do you know him?" Brenda asked. 

"Who?" 

"That guy with Capt'n Raydor. I feel like I've seen him before but..." She furrowed her brow. He did seem somewhat familiar. "I can't remember his name." 

"Why do you want to know his name?" 

"Fritzy! I can't go over there and say 'hi' and not know the guy's name!" Brenda exclaimed. She had absolutely no intention of going over there and introduce herself to him but at least this way her husband would think she was trying to figure out the guy's name instead of the fact that she's been staring at Sharon's amazing legs. What was she going to say to him? Hi, I'm Brenda Leigh Johnson and I want to sleep with your date? She tore her eyes away from Sharon and looked at Fritz. "Do you know who he is or not?" 

"I think his name is Charles Le Croft. Words in Fraud, I think. I've seen him around." 

Brenda bit her tongue when she saw Sharon once again lean in to her date. Her mouth was close to his ear. Brenda wondered what it would feel like to have Sharon lean in to her like that. She curled her hands up into fists under the table when she recognised a familiar heat pool between her legs and forced herself to look away. Fritz shot her a worried glance. 

"Brenda, are you ok?" 

"Yes," she lied. This was one of those moments where she was grateful for being an amazing liar. God, she needed to get laid. "It's just...cramps." She pushed her chair away from the table. She couldn't watch this any longer. It was torture. "I'm just going to..." She didn't have to finish the sentence because Fritz knew what she meant. It was amazing how uncomfortable men became the second a woman mentioned anything related to her body. Brenda knocked over her wine glass in her desperation to get away. 

At the bar Sharon looked over her date's shoulder. She already regretted asking him to accompany her. He was obnoxious, had bad manners and liked to hear himself talk. She was bored but his being here only served one purpose. When she caught sight of the dark look on Brenda's face Sharon knew her plan had worked. 

She was aware of how the blonde woman felt. She'd met Brenda's lust filled eyes many times across the distance of the Murder Room, had felt that piercing gaze burn into her back - and her ass. Sharon enjoyed playing this game. Brenda wasn't the type to give up her control, or admit to a weakness, and Sharon used that knowledge. She knew that the Chief would eventually come undone and when it happened, Sharon would be right there waiting. Some things were just inevitable. Sooner or later, and Sharon hoped for sooner rather than later, she would sleep with Brenda Leigh Johnson. 

She leaned in towards Charles and whispered in his ear, "I'm just going to the ladies room." He barely acknowledged her. When Sharon looked back up she saw the red wine still dripping from the knocked over glass. Brenda was gone. 

Tonight was not the night. 

__

__**IV** _ _

__She hadn't known where else to go. Los Angeles suddenly seemed ten times bigger than it already was and she had never felt more alone. She'd gotten behind the wheel, barely able to see through the tears that streamed down her face, and she just drove. Every street looked like the one before. Every turn just seemed to be another road to nowhere._ _

__The papers had been signed. She was officially divorced. Free, as some would say. But she didn't feel free. She didn't feel the elation she had thought she'd feel. All she felt was disappointment. Disappointment in herself for having yet another relationship fail, even if it was her own fault. What good would staying married do if she was in love with someone else? How could she look into her husband's eyes when it wasn't him she wanted to see? How could he still look at her when he knew that she was thinking of someone else?_ _

__How could Brenda stay married to Fritz when she really loved Sharon Raydor? When she had loved her for quite some time, maybe even years? When Sharon loved her too and had waited for her, for all this time, waiting for this moment, for Brenda to come find her._ _

__She'd stood outside the house for almost fifteen minutes now. The street was quiet and dark. The curtains were drawn but Brenda could see lights on inside, recognised the flashing lights of a TV. Sharon was home. They were separated by just a door. A door that would open if Brenda knocked. A door that would invite her into a whole new life._ _

__Brenda didn't knock._ _

__**V** _ _

__Sharon hadn't thought Brenda would actually go through with it. Brenda leaving seemed unthinkable. She couldn't even imagine this place without her. But Brenda was leaving and Sharon knew it. She knew because she held Brenda's goodbye letter in her hand, looked down on the round, curvy handwriting she'd gotten so used to in recent weeks and months, stared down at Brenda's name printed in capitals at the bottom, a small x scribbled behind her name to mark a kiss._ _

__She knew this was the same letter Brenda had read out in her murder room earlier today. Sharon couldn't bring herself to go. She didn't want to hear Brenda speak these words, hear them being said out loud. Maybe if she didn't hear them, it wouldn't be real._ _

__Sharon put the letter down on her desk and removed her glasses. Her eyes were tired and sore. It had been a long couple of weeks. Philip Stroh attacking Brenda and Rusty Beck in Brenda's kitchen had shook them all to the core. Brenda's leaving only added to that anguish._ _

__A soft knock on her door made Sharon look up. It was late. Her entire division had already gone home. Sharon didn't feel like going just yet. Home would only be quiet. Just like this place would be without Brenda but at least here, her presence still lingered._ _

__"Yes?" She called softly._ _

__The door opened and Brenda stepped into Sharon's office. Her hair was bound back in a ponytail and she wore a dark blazer. Sharon immediately recognised the large purse hanging off Brenda's shoulder and smiled. Brenda's team had insisted on buying her a new one after she'd shot Stroh through her old one. Sharon had been the one to take the old one from evidence, had let her fingers ghost over the three bullet holes and realised just how close she'd come to losing everything, everything, she held most dear._ _

__"Hey," Brenda said softly. The room was lit only by the small lamp on Sharon's desk. Shadows closed in on the two women when Brenda closed the door behind her._ _

__Sharon tried to smile. Her eyes reflected sadness. "Hi."_ _

__Brenda crossed the room and leaned against the desk. She stared down at her feet. "I didn't see you in the Murder Room earlier."_ _

__"I err…. I had… I had work to do," Sharon replied. She couldn't bring herself to look up. She knew why Brenda was here. It was the same reason Sharon had avoided going to the Murder Room. "I'm sorry. I was going to call you tonight."_ _

__Brenda chewed the inside of her cheek and peered up at Sharon through her eyelashes. The older woman still didn't look at her. "I'm here now."_ _

__"Yes, you are." Sharon closed the folder that was lying in front of her and finally looked up. "Brenda, I didn't come to the Murder Room because…." She paused. "Because I didn't want to say goodbye. I think it's wrong you're leaving." She stopped short of saying 'I don't want you to go.'_ _

__Brenda pushed herself off Sharon's desk and circled round it. She held still in front of the brunette's chair and put a hand on Sharon's shoulder, forcing the older woman to look at her. The relationship between her and Sharon had changed in recent weeks. "I know," she said softly. "Sharon, I just wanted to thank you for everythin' you've done for me. If it hadn't been for you, I probably would have left a long time ago. And I don't think I ever told you how much I appreciated…" Brenda swallowed the unexpected tears away. "…How much I appreciated you bein' there for me."_ _

__Sharon opened her mouth to say that it had been her pleasure, that she would have done more if she could have, but Brenda just shook her head. Sharon remained silent and her gaze instead dropped to Brenda's mouth, like it had done so many times before. When she looked back up she found Brenda still looking at her. Somehow she had moved even closer and Sharon froze when Brenda leant in._ _

__Brenda's lips were sweet and warm and tasted of chocolate and coffee. Sharon felt herself relax and leaned in deeper to the kiss. Brenda came closer still, until her knees touched Sharon and she had to choose between breaking the kiss or sinking down onto Sharon's lap. Brenda's hands were in Sharon's hair and she kissed her harder, deeper._ _

__When Brenda finally ended the kiss, she slowly staggered backwards. She looked bewildered, almost confused, as if she was shocked that it had actually happened._ _

__"You should go," Sharon stammered. She straightened herself up and her lips, still somewhat bruised from the kiss, formed a thin line. "Chief Johnson, you should go."_ _

__"Capt'n Raydor."_ _

__Brenda readjusted her blazer and started for the door. She opened it but didn't leave, chose to turn around instead. She looked at Sharon sitting behind her desk, cradling her head in her hands. Brenda took in a sharp breath and Sharon looked up. When their gazes locked Sharon saw the devastation in Brenda's eyes._ _

__"Goodbye, Sharon."_ _

__**(And one time that she didn't….)** _ _

__**VI** _ _

__Sharon had always been afraid that Brenda would leave. That she would change her mind somehow. That she would wake up and find Brenda missing one morning._ _

__Until today._ _

__"Do you, Brenda Leigh Johnson, take Sharon Mary Raydor O'Dwyer as your lawfully wedded wife?"_ _

__"I do."_ _

__Sharon knew Brenda wasn't going anywhere._ _


	2. Five Times Brenda Didn't Say I Love You

  
**I**

 

She closed the door behind her and stepped into her kitchen. The house was dark. Brenda listened but there was no sound. She quietly removed her shoes and left them by the table. She dropped her keys and her purse on the counter and turned the lock on the door. There was something final about hearing the soft click. She wasn't just locking the door, she was locking away part of herself. Her secret.

She then padded through the house towards the bedroom and froze when she saw the light coming from under the door. Her hand hovered over the door handle and she was about to turn around, towards the guest room, when she heard his voice. Her heart sank.

"Brenda? Is that you?"

Fritz was still awake, she realised. Had he been waiting up for her?

Brenda opened the bedroom door and forced herself to smile. It was two o'clock in the morning. Why was he still awake? She found him sitting up, two pillows propped behind his back, and a stack of files in his lap. He looked up when she came in to the room.

"Sorry," she apologised and began stripping off her clothes. "I was tryin' to be quiet. I thought you'd be asleep." She'd hoped he'd be asleep. It would have made this a lot easier. A familiar scent wafted up her nose when she took off her shirt. Perfume, but not her own. It was in her clothes and on her skin. It lingered there, invisible. A reminder. "I was 'bout to go home but then another murder came in and the crime scene was all the way in the Hills so..." She shot a glanced over her shoulder. Fritz wasn't watching her. "I came back as fast as I could."

She wondered if one night he was going to ask her where she really went. He had to know that she didn't just work late several times a week. With her back still turned towards Fritz, Brenda rummaged through her drawers and found her favourite pair of pyjamas. She put them on and as she did, she observed the bruise on her thigh. A perfect thumb print, left there by a hand that did not belong to her husband. She caressed it briefly but then withdrew her hand and crossed the room.

"Straight forward case?" Fritz asked when she climbed in the bed. He'd put the files on his nightstand.

"If it was straight forward they wouldn't need Major Crimes."

He merely smiled and she took this as a sign. Brenda curled up on her side of the bed with her back towards him and waited, held her breath, as Fritz switched off the light. She felt the weight shift, felt him roll towards her. She didn't move, not even when she felt him arm around her waist. In the dark, Brenda stared at the wall, longing for another pair of arms, Sharon's arms, to hold her just like this. Leaving those arms thirty minutes ago had felt like torture, especially when Sharon had asked, her voice thick with sleep, if Brenda would stay.

Fritz whispered in her ear, "I love you, Brenda."

Brenda didn't answer.

**II**

To know that she had come within seconds of dying had startled her. To watch a young man put a bullet in his head in one of the interview rooms had rocked her very core. Brenda didn't easily admit that she was scared but today, she was. She was terrified. She was terrified of what was to come, of what had already happened. A death in custody was never a good thing but a young man who had managed to bring a gun into the building was even more disturbing.

Brenda's hand trembled when she stepped in to the media room to meet with Captain Sharon Raydor. She saw the look on the older woman's face, the fear in those green eyes, and Brenda realised that she wasn't here to be scolded or even to be told off. She was here because Sharon was concerned about her, was worried. Brenda realised Sharon looked softer, kinder, without her glasses.

"Are you ok?"

Sharon's voice was soft. Somehow it still cuts through Brenda like a knife. Ripped her open, tore her apart.

"I think so, yeah." Brenda didn't know how she managed to speak. Didn't recognise her own voice. Just stared at Sharon. She wasn't sure if she wanted the world to swallow her up or for the rest of the world to vanish, leaving just the two of them.

"From what I just saw, you nearly died." Sharon looked almost as fragile as Brenda did.

She then proceeded to ask her questions and Brenda answered them on autopilot. When Sharon then asked Buzz to leave the room and closed the door, Brenda felt more vulnerable than she had in months. And she allowed Sharon to see her, truly see her. Didn't hide behind her mask. Instead she looked at the brunette and asked, pleaded, for Sharon to give her the time to continue her investigation, to allow her to do her job. Her voice trembled, was laced with held back tears and so many other things Brenda couldn't put into words.

And Sharon let her. She gave Brenda her space, gave her everything she needed. And she promised to interview every single person that had handled the suspect from the moment of his arrest to the moment he was brought into the interview room because Sharon wanted to find whoever was responsible for putting Brenda's life in danger.

Brenda said, "thank you." She said it quietly. She said it in a way she had never said it to Sharon Raydor before. She huddled deeper into her oatmeal coloured cardigan, desperately seeking shelter and comfort, two things that had been so rudely taken from her today. She wanted to step closer to Sharon, to seek out what she had lost today and find it in her arms, but Brenda remained frozen on the spot.

She and Sharon weren't friends. Sharon was only here to investigate her, to watch her, to track her every move and record every decision she made. Sharon Raydor wasn't her friend. But Brenda loved her anyway so when Sharon left the room, the door softly closing behind her, Brenda swallowed the words "I love you" that had been resting on the tip of her tongue.

**III**

"You have reached Captain Sharon Raydor. I'm sorry I can't take your call right now. Please leave your name and number after the beep and I call you back…."

_"Sharon? Sharon it's me. I just err…. I just got home. Well, parked up actually. But…. I just called to say that I had a lovely time tonight and I was wondering if you… would like… you know, do this again some time?"_

Sharon listened carefully to Brenda's voice on her answering machine. She recognised the distinct sound of a car door opening and closing, the sound of traffic in the background, keys jingling in Brenda's hand and the sound of her heels against the pavement as she walked. A door opened and closed. Only silence remained for a few seconds.

 _"I errr…"_ Brenda's voice was softer now and Sharon knew why. She wrapped her robe around her naked body a little bit tighter. _"I would really like to see you again. Soon. Call me? Please? I really, really had a great time."_ There was another pause and Sharon wondered if Brenda was making sure she couldn't be heard. A door opened down the hall and Sharon recognised the muffled sound of footsteps. _"Sharon, I…."_

Sharon waited. She waited for those words. They never came. The line went dead.

 

**IV**

She had looked at Sharon first. Had turned around in her seat, elation settling in her chest and had searched for and found Sharon's eyes before she found her husband's. She had seen the relief in Sharon's green ones before also finding it in her husband's brown ones. She had turned to the person she had relied on the most, the one she needed the most, and the one she loved the most.

The one she could never tell.

So instead she had just thanked Sharon for 'standing by her.' Didn't say what she really wanted to say. Couldn't say what she really wanted to say. Just looked at Sharon and hoped, prayed, that she understood.

 

**V**

She wished she'd said it. She wished she'd had the courage, had the strength. But she'd chosen to be a coward, had chosen to stay with a man she no longer loved, who no longer made her feel alive, because she was afraid. Afraid of herself, afraid of the disappointment she would see in her Daddy's eyes. They'd been married for over fifty years when her Mama died. Brenda's first marriage hadn't even lasted one. The look in her Daddy's eyes when she told him, the disappointment, was something shed never forget. She knew that his image of her had changed. She was no longer his perfect little girl. So when Brenda fell in love with Sharon Raydor, she lied.

She lied to herself. She lied to her husband. She lied to her family. But, worst of all, she lied to Sharon. And Brenda wasn't sure if she could ever forgive herself for that. She had something, something beautiful, and she let it slip through her fingers, watched it fall apart.

And now Brenda watched, her heart aching, as Sharon leaned in to Andy Flynn and pecked him on his cheek under the mistletoe.

She turned away, tears burning behind her eyes. Felt Fritz's hand on her arm. Heard him whisper, "Bren, are you ok?"

"Fine," she answered.

She still lied.

 

**VI**  
**(and one time she did)**

She had washed blood of her hands before but somehow this was different. She felt dirty, tainted. She felt damaged up to a point that she didn't believe she could ever be fixed. She watched as the blood swirled down the drain. Her hands were shaking and the piece of soap she held between her fingers fell into the basin.

"Let me help you."

She jumped at the touch on her shoulder and spun around.

Sharon immediately regretted her touch. Brenda looked startled, her brown doe eyes wide open and filled with panic. They were standing in the bathroom. The same bathroom through which Philip Stroh had entered Brenda's home, had invaded her privacy and her life beyond anything Sharon had ever witnessed. Her eyes instantly snapped to the window. It was still open.

"Brenda, I'm sorry," she apologised when she looked back at the blonde woman. She had never seen her so small, so vulnerable. She realised this was the first time she had called Brenda by her first name. There would be a time for official business and using of appropriate ranks. This wasn't it. "I didn't mean to scare you. I should have knocked. I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

Sharon knew Brenda lied.

Sharon stepped closer to the sink and picked up the bar of soap. The water was still running. She waited for Brenda to tell her it was ok. When she noticed the younger woman jerked her head, Sharon covered Brenda's hands carefully and gently with her own. She began to rub soap over blood stained fingers, gently massaged Brenda's wrists. The remaining blood began to fade and Sharon gently pulled Brenda's hands towards the tap, rinsing away the physical remnants of Philip Stroh and wished she could wash away the mental ones too.

"Thank you, Sharon." Brenda's voice was soft. She took the towel Sharon handed her. She looked up at both their reflections in the mirror. She remembered how quickly Sharon had arrived here. She'd been the first person Brenda called after dialling 911. She just said "I shot Philip Stroh." Sharon arrived just as the paramedics were taking Stroh and Rusty Beck to hospital, and found Brenda standing outside her front door covered in blood.

Sharon had taken Brenda inside and sat her down. Talked her through what would happen next, took her statement and her gun. At that point the rest of Major Crimes had arrived but Sharon hadn't left. She sat next to Brenda, her arm protectively around her shoulders, her hand on Brenda's knee. She'd sat in silence as Brenda talked. She just listened.

"It's going to be ok," Sharon promised. She averted her eyes. "I errr… I just spoke to your husband. He'll be on the next flight out of Washington but he asked me to stay until he gets here." She looked back up. "Stay with you, I mean. Because you can't stay here." The house was a crime scene and she doubted Brenda wanted to look at the spot where she'd shot Stroh every again. "We can pack some things and you can come home with me."

"No."

Sharon turned around in the bathroom doorway, surprised. "No?" She arched an eyebrow.

"I don't need Fritz."

"Brenda, we talked about this. We said we…."

"I love you, Sharon." Brenda dropped the towel and crossed the length of the bathroom until she reached Sharon. "It took having Stroh standing in my kitchen to realise it. I was thinkin' that if he was gonna kill me…." Her voice broke, tears glistened in her eyes. She took Sharon's hands and Sharon realised just how desperate Brenda was. "I was thinkin' that I would never see you again and I never got to say it. That you never got to hear it."

Sharon shook her head. "Brenda…"

"I know we said we wouldn't do this, that it was over. But I don't want it to be over. Not anymore. Not after tonight. When I looked at Stroh, when I saw death starin' back at me, it wasn't Fritz I was thinkin' about. It was you." Brenda took Sharon's hands. "I know what I want, Sharon."

Sharon's breath hitched. "And what's that?"

"Take me home with you."


	3. Five Times Sharon Said No

**I**

It was late. Her entire division had already gone home. Sharon Raydor sat behind her desk, placing her signature for what like the hundredth time that day under a piece of paperwork. Her neck and shoulders were sore and she was tired. She reached absentmindedly for the cup a few inches to her right but looked up when she found it empty. Briefly she contemplated going to the break room to put the kettle on and make more tea but then she decided that the empty cup was a sign. She sighed, collected the pieces of paper and pushes them in to a folder.

A knock on the door startled her and she looked up. The sight of her visitor surprised her. She didn't think Fritz Howard had ever been to FID before, and certainly not at nine o'clock at night.

Sharon rubbed her temples. A headache had been throbbing behind her eyes for the last couple of hours. "Agent Howard," she said, her voice tired and soft. "What can I do for you? I don't remember any FID cases overlapping with an FBI investigation."

"It's not the FID that's overlapping," Fritz replied. "May I come in?"

Sharon pointed at the two chairs in front of her desk and watched Fritz Howard walk across the room. He was still wearing his suit, so he had come straight from work, but his tie was loosened. He seemed to contemplate sitting down but then decided against it, choosing to lean against the backrest of the chair instead, his hands digging into the leather. 

Sharon had spent plenty of time in rooms with people who were trying to lie to her. Cops who had knowingly and deliberately screwed up were some of the most intense liars she had ever encountered and she knew, just by looking at their faces, that there was something they weren't telling her. And she recognised the lie in Fritz's eyes, too. He had walked into her office appearing casual but she knew it wasn't true.

Sharon leant back in her chair, her hands in her lap. She appeared non-defensive this way. "So," she said, her voice a little sharper this time. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here about Brenda."

Ah, Sharon thought. Now the truth came out. She didn't move, didn't blink, and kept her face straight. "Chief Johnson." Using her title created distance. Gave her some leverage. She even rolled her eyes for good measure. "Alright. What has she done this time?"

"I was about to ask you that," Fritz replied. His eyes fixed on Sharon. She could see his FBI training come to the surface. "What's going on between you two?"

"Agent Howard, are you suggesting there is something going on between Chief Johnson and myself that goes beyond a professional relationship?" Sharon fixed the man with a piercing stare from behind her glasses. "I would rather stick pins in my eyes." She watched how his face contorted briefly and she smiled sweetly. "No offence."

He didn't answer.

Sharon leaned forward over her desk. "As I am sure you are well aware, Chief Johnson hates me. It's not exactly a secret."

"Funny you should say that, Captain, because Brenda said exactly the same thing about you."

"I guess that's the one thing me and her actually agree on."

Fritz didn't let go of her gaze. "I am going to ask you flat out, Captain, and I expect an honest answer. Face to face, eye to eye. Are you having an affair with my wife?"

Sharon didn't blink. "No."

Fritz pushed himself away from the chair he'd been leaning on and started for the door. If he was in anyway embarrassed or uncomfortable about what had happened, he didn't show it. What he did show was that he didn't quite believe Sharon because he turned around in the doorway and shot her a final glance. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. Sharon knew what he wanted to say. He never said it.

She had just grabbed her purse from her bottom drawer of her desk when her cell phone buzzed. She smiled when she saw a familiar name flash across her screen.

"Hi," said a familiar voice. 

Sharon turned off the lights in her office and closed the door behind her. "Hey."

"I need to see you. Tonight."

Sharon briefly closed her eyes and leant with her back against the door. Her stomach wound itself into a knot. In the distance she heard the ping of the elevator. Fritz was only just leaving. She took a deep breath. 

"My place. One hour." 

"Ok. I've still got your key. I'll let myself in."

Sharon was about to hang up but then changed her mind. In the distance the elevator doors closed. "Brenda?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

 

**II**

Sharon let her fingers ghost over Brenda's foot. She'd just finished painting Brenda's toenails a bright shade of pink and now her warm hands caressed Brenda's feet. 

She looked beside her where Brenda lay sprawled out on the couch, her insane mop of blonde curls framing her face, her skin bare of any make-up. She was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a white tank top without a bra. Her eyes were closed but she wasn't asleep. Sharon could tell because Brenda's lips twitched slightly when she applied more pressure to the blonde's feet.

They'd been dating for almost two years. Brenda had moved into Sharon's home as soon as her divorce had been finalised. They'd surprised everyone with their relationship, least of all Brenda's now ex-husband Fritz and Lieutenant Andy Flynn. It just seemed that their initial dislike for each other had grown into something different altogether.

"Your mind seems to be awfully far away tonight," Sharon said softly, her fingers drawing circles just above Brenda's big toe. "Everything ok?"

Brenda didn't open her eyes, just nodded. 

"You sure?" Sharon asked. Three years since their rather volatile first meeting in a hospital waiting room, she was used to Brenda's worries being etched all over her face. The blonde southern belle wasn't exactly known for her subtlety. Sharon stopped what she was doing, picked up her lover's feet and dumped them unceremoniously on the floor. Brenda let out a deep 'oomph' and when she opened her eyes, she found Sharon watching her. 

"Brenda, what's going on?"

"I was just thinkin," Brenda slowly said. "With the holidays comin' up and Emily and Ricky comin' to visit..." She seemed to hesitate and shifted a little uncomfortably on the couch, plucked something invisible of her shirt. "Have you ever thought about, you know, havin' another child? You know, at some point in your life?"

"No," Sharon dead panned and she missed the way Brenda's eyes darkened just a little. "You know, I love my kids and I wish every day that they lived closer but I guess with Jack leaving me when they were little, I never thought about it. Emily had horrible colic as a baby and Ricky...  
Well, if babies had a return option I probably would have used it at one point."

Brenda didn't answer immediately and Sharon's green eyes focused on her. Brenda was looking at her hands. The older woman cocked her head.

"What made you ask?" Sharon wanted to know. Brenda got on well with her kids. Sharon hadn't been surprised. Neither Emily nor Ricky had forgiven their dad for how he had treated her. Seeing her with Brenda, how happy she was, had made them happy. Brenda didn't have kids. She'd told Sharon Fritz had wanted them but it had never felt right. She just couldn't picture herself raising a family. It was one of the reasons, one of many, their marriage didn't work out.

"I was just thinkin' about Charlie," Brenda said quickly. Too quickly, maybe. "She's an only child and I guess I always wondered why my brother and his wife didn't have any more kids. I guess I wondered if all parents ask themselves that question, even if they have more than one."

"I think people who don't have kids at all at some point probably ask themselves that question," Sharon replied. "I mean, you don't have kids. Did you ask yourself that question?"

"I did," Brenda admitted. She had always felt like she didn't want any kids. The pregnancy scare she'd had during her relationship with Fritz had only confirmed that. Some people just weren't cut out to be mothers. She fumbled with her hands. But sometimes...Sometimes people change. And sometimes things weren't meant to happen with one person because perhaps, the universe just knew it wasn't going to work out. 

"So you wouldn't want another?"

"No."

When Sharon looked at Brenda again, saw the unexpected hurt in those brown eyes, she realised what she had said, what Brenda had been trying to say, what she had offered, how she had opened herself up, gave away a little bit of herself, and suddenly Sharon didn't feel so sure anymore that what she had said was right. 

When Brenda went to bed, Sharon tentatively opened up her laptop and typed 'fertility clinic' into Google. 

 

**III**

The annual LAPD Christmas party was held at a hotel every year. A different one for every Christmas - there were plenty to choose from in this city after all. This year's choice was an expensive five star place in the middle of Beverly Hills. Sharon was surprised the LAPD was actually to pay the extortionate amount of money it must have cost to hire this place for the night when only last week another memo had circulated announcing they were refusing to let people work overtime. 

Sharon sipped from her wine and watched the goings on in the room. She knew most of the people here but the only reason she had turned up was because it made her look good. Politics, as much as she loathed them, were important, even for the head of FID. 

She finished off her wine, left the glass on the table and stood up to leave the room. She'd been here long enough now for people to have seen her, to have noticed, and if she left now she would still be home on time for a relatively early night. Besides, the longer she stayed her, the more drunk most of these people became, and she'd rather not be a witness to that. She grabbed her bag and exited the room, deciding to swing past the ladies' room before leaving.

To her surprise the room was empty. There were six stalls, all unoccupied. Marble sinks stretched out along the wall with big, oval shaped mirrors above each of them. The room smelt of fresh flowers mixed with mistletoe. Sharon crossed the room, singling out the middle cubicle, but before she could enter, she felt a hand on her shoulder that forced her to spin around.

"What the..." The other person came into view after Sharon blinked a couple of times. "Chief Johnson."

Brenda Leigh Johnson stood in front of her, wearing a figure huffing deep blue dress with a low, deep cleavage. Blond curls tumbled down her shoulders and dark brown eyes connected with Sharon's. From the corner of the eye Sharon noticed the empty wineglass that has been left rather close to the edge of the sink. 

"Capt'n Raydor," Brenda drawled. Sharon realised Brenda's accent was dragged out even more by the alcohol. How much wine did Brenda have?

Sharon pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't know you were here."

It was an outright lie. She'd noticed Brenda the moment she walked in the room. Sharon guessed that every male in the room had noticed her too because Brenda looked absolutely breath taking. 

She swallowed hard. She and Brenda had worked together a lot recently but it had been a couple of weeks since their paths last crossed. 

"I knew you were here," Brenda stated. "It's why I came."

"Chief?" Sharon arched an eyebrow. 

"Oh, come on now, Capt'n. We both know you've been watchin' me for weeks," Brenda purred, moving closer to Sharon. Instinctively the older woman took a step back but collided with the sink. Her hands encountered cold marble.

Brenda wasn't wrong. Sharon has been watching Brenda for weeks. The way she walked, the way her skirts clung to her hips, the roundness of her ass and the way her breasts pressed against her shirt. Shaken doubted there was anything about the blonde Deputy Chief that she hadn't noticed yet.

"I've been watchin' you too," Brenda continued and Sharon felt the Chief's hands against her own. They were soft and warm. It send a tingling shiver down her spine. "Been thinkin' about why you were doin' that. What you were thinkin'." Brenda looked at her through heavy lidded eyes. Then she unexpectedly leaned in and hot lips pressed against Sharon's ear. "I want you."

Sharon's breath hitched when Brenda's lips moved from her ear to her neck, the tip of Brenda's tongue leaving a wet trail over her now smouldering skin. She let her head fall back, exposing herself to Brenda further.

When Brenda's lips hungrily collided with her own, Sharon's world was sent into a spin. Suddenly one hand was hiding in Brenda's curls, the other cupped the perfect shape of her ass in that dress, pulling her closer. Brenda's hands were on Sharon's hips, impatiently yanking at the dress, inching it further and further up Sharon's thighs.

But then something snapped and Sharon's eyes opened. Brenda's fingers grazed over her panties and Sharon grabbed her wrist, stopping the motion. They broke apart with a soft 'pop'. Brenda's lips were swollen and her eyes dark, filled with lust.

"No," Sharon whispered. "You're drunk, Brenda. I don't want this to happen like this."

"But I know you want me..."

"And I know you wouldn't be doing this if you were sober." Sharon gently pushed Brenda away. She averted her eyes. "Go home, Brenda."

"But...."

Sharon didn't stick around to say anything else. She almost ran from the room and rushed out of the hotel to the parking lot. Her heart ached in her chest when she got to her car. She got behind the wheel, stuck the key in the ignition and leant back in her seat. She then rummaged around in her purse for her phone, found it and began typing a message.

_If you remember why I am sending this message, call me._

Brenda didn't call.

**IV**

The damn phone just kept on ringing. It was late, after ten. She had the worst day in the entirety of her career, and that was saying something. Seeing Brenda stand in the corridor, her hands covered in Philip Stroh’s blood after attacking him in the elevator, was an image Sharon wished she could erase from her memory. It was the reason she didn’t answer her phone. What Brenda had done today had been the start of something falling apart, something Sharon wasn’t sure she could fix.

The phone stopped ringing and Sharon welcomed the silence, only to have it disturbed again. She glanced at the screen. Seeing ‘Chief Pope’ appear, for the sixth time, wasn’t good, she knew that much at least. She was done talking to that man. She was done cleaning up messes just to make him look good. He’d used her to follow Brenda around, had used her to spy on her. If he had planned to make Brenda feel unwanted and unappreciated, Sharon knew he had succeeded. She wasn’t sure she’d ever come across another person as self-centred as Chief William Pope and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him right now about how she was going to fix today’s disaster. 

She didn’t want to think about it. She just wanted it, for tonight at least, to go away.

Her cell phone finally stopped ringing and she breathed a sigh of relief, only to be confronted by the sound of her landline ringing. She groaned, abandoned her half empty glass of white wine on the coffee table and stood up to answer it before the machine kicked in. She noticed the caller ID was withheld when she said, “Hello?”

“Captain Raydor.” 

She felt almost sick. “Chief Pope.”

“Is your cell phone broken, Captain?”

“No, sir.” She looked at the device in question. “I left it in my bag.”

“If I were to say that I need you to do something for me, right now, what would you say?”

Sharon scrunched up her nose, remembered how she had stood in front of Pope a few days ago telling him she’d been offered a promotion and no longer wanted to follow Brenda around. Most of it had been a setup, a trick to identify the leak, but there had been an element of truth to it all and she knew he knew it too. “With all due respect sir, but with everything you have already made me do, I would say no.”

Sharon heard the distinct sound of police sirens in the background. “I think you’ll change your mind, Captain.”

“Sir?” She suddenly grabbed the phone a little tighter.

“I need you to go see Chief Johnson. Right now.”

“Why?”

“She just shot Philip Stroh.”

**V**

“Chief Johnson, how many times do I have to tell you this? This is serious. Whatever happens during this lawsuit will determine the rest of your career, the rest of your life even!” Sharon sounded exasperated.

Brenda crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I did nothin’ wrong.”

“It’s not me you need to convince, Chief.”

Brenda’s eyes narrowed. A warning sign, Sharon knew. “Then why does it feel like I do?”

Sharon didn’t answer. She didn’t have one. The lawsuit against Brenda was damning to say the least and she was forced to investigate Brenda as well as to try to make the whole thing go as well as it could. Pope was breathing down her neck about the whole thing. Sharon hadn’t allowed herself too much time to consider her own emotions, didn’t want them to cloud her judgment and what she needed to do. She also didn’t want her feelings towards Brenda, towards the decision she had made, to influence her.

The atmosphere in the room had shifted and she knew there was nothing else to be said. Talking to Brenda about the lawsuit, trying to make her see sense, was near enough impossible. So Sharon turned around and started for the door. She had her hand on the doorknob when she felt Brenda’s hand on her arm and she slowly turned around.  
Brenda’s eyes were wide open and for the first time Sharon saw something other than defiance. She saw fear, she saw confusion.  
  
“Capt’n…” Brenda’s voice faltered. “Sharon….”

Sharon’s breath hitched. “Chief.”

“Tell me,” Brenda whispered. “And tell me honestly. Because I need to know. I need to know you’re….” She couldn’t finish that sentence. “Do you believe I did somethin’ wrong?”  
  
Sharon looked down at Brenda’s hand on her arm, felt the burning sensation left behind by Brenda’s fingers. She sighed and the answer rolled off her tongue in a shallow breath.

“No.”

 

**VI**  
**(and one time she didn't}**  
  
She sat on her knees in front of her, the palm of her hand open. The ring lay there, a fine small little band made out of white gold, with two little diamonds in the middle. Elegant, refined, and beautiful. Brenda didn’t need to ask the question, didn’t even have to utter a single word because Sharon leaned in, pressed her lips against those of her lover and just whispered,

“Yes.”


	4. Five Times They Almost Had An Affair

**I**

"Hello?"

"Sharon?"

"Brenda? It's after midnight! Is everything ok?"

"Yeah, everythin's fine. I just.... I needed to hear your voice."

She sat in the dark living room. She'd come in here twenty minutes ago, unable to sleep. She could still hear Fritz snoring in the bedroom, even with the door closed. She sat on the couch, clad in a pair of light blue pyjama pants and a white tank top, her legs tucked up underneath herself. 

"What happened?" 

Brenda wondered how Sharon always knew. "We had a fight." A pause. "Again."

"Brenda, you can't keep doing this."

"Do what?"

"You know what I mean."

Brenda heard a soft shuffling noise. Sharon was in bed, she guessed, and what she heard were the sheets rustling. She imagined Sharon to be nicely tucked up under her duvet. In her pyjamas. She wondered what Sharon wore to bed.

"Are you in bed?" The question slipped out without her really thinking about it.

"Brenda, I'm not doing this right now. We've talked about this." Sharon's voice was soft. It were the words of a woman whose mind said one thing and whose heart said another. "We probably shouldn't be..."

"Talking, yes I know." Brenda heard the bed creak and looked up, strained her hearing. Fritz was still snoring. He must've rolled over. She sighed. "I just... With you..."

Sharon sighed too. "I know."

"I wish I was there."

"Brenda..."

"With you. In bed. I want to be there." She heard Sharon's breath hitch, felt her own heartbeat quicken. How many times had they talked like this? How many times had she confessed to Sharon what she wanted, had heard Sharon confess the same? How many nights had she sat in the dark talking to Sharon while her husband slept in the other room? It was as if in the dark they could lose some of their restraints, their fears. "I wish I could touch you."

"Brenda...." Sharon's voice no longer sounded like she was telling her off. It sounded like an invite. "Brenda, please."

"I want to touch you, Sharon." Brenda recognised the heat pooling between her legs. It had happened so many times before. But she had yet to feel Sharon's hands on her skin. She was still married. "I want to..." She chewed her lip. "Be with you."

"Oh God."

It was just a soft moan, a whisper, falling from Sharon's lips and she knew she had to put a stop to this now. She had to end this before she and Brenda did something they wouldn't be able to face in the light of day. It had been building up to this for weeks, months, and if she didn't take a step back now, she wouldn't be able to end this. 

"Sharon?" 

"Yes?"

"Tell me what you're doin'."

Sharon swallowed hard. Her hand lay splayed out across her stomach, her index finger tucked behind the band of her panties. Her skin was hot. "Brenda, stop." The words hurt. Hurt more than anything else. "We have to stop this. Now."

"I know." Brenda tasted the tears on her lips. She recognised the sound of the bedroom door opening, of footsteps approaching. "I've gotta go."

She hung up before Sharon had a chance to reply ad pushed the phone under one of the couch cushions. When Fritz walked in, she looked up. He sleepily smiled at her.

"You ok, Bren?"

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "Yes," she lied. "Just couldn't sleep is all."

 

**II**

She'd splashed some cold water in her face and stared at her own reflection for what felt like an eternity. Staring back at her were tired, weary eyes; haunted by what she had faced today. 

The door opened and Brenda turned around at the unwelcome intrusion to find Sharon walking in to the ladies room. The door closed quietly behind her and the brunette only became aware of Brenda's quiet form when she went to walk to one of the stalls.

"Oh, Chief," she apologised. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise anyone else was in here." Green eyes narrowed behind dark rimmed glasses. "I thought you were still interviewing the boy's mother?"

"I got what I wanted." 

Brenda's voice was flat. She'd gotten her answers but it wasn't what she wanted. What she wanted was for the five year old boy to still be alive, for not having to face his mother, the person who was supposed to love him more than anyone else in this world, and ask her why she had murdered her son. 

She caught Sharon looking at her in the mirror, a gaze so all seeing that it almost made Brenda crumble inside. She turned her eyes away, stared down at her hands still clutching the sink.

"Brenda?" 

The way Sharon said her name, so quietly, was enough to rip through her and the tears came without warning or explanation. They were there, on her cheeks and on her lips. She could feel them, could taste them. 

And then Sharon's hands were on her shoulders, turned her around. Her body somehow fitted perfectly against Sharon's, the older woman's arms somehow slipped effortlessly around her waist, pulled her closer. Brenda's chin rested on Sharon's shoulder. Soft brown locks tickled her face and she inhaled the familiar perfume. 

"You did what you had to do," Sharon whispered. Her fingers drew small circles on Brenda's lower back. "You got justice for that little boy."

"Did I?" Brenda asked. She broke away from Sharon's embrace and straightened up her sweater. "Real justice would have meant finding him before he died in that car."

Sharon didn't answer immediately. "You got the person who hurt him. You found the answers. You spoke for him when he couldn't speak for himself."

Brenda shivered when Sharon's hand caressed her cheek. She looked up into those green eyes. She was drawn to them, lost herself in them, felt herself drown. Sharon's hand was warm against her cheek. The touch was intimate, opened up something inside of Brenda she had fought to keep closed. Until now.

Brenda didn't know what made her lean in, didn't know what she was looking for, didn't know what she hoped to find. She never let go of Sharon's gaze, not even when the older woman's thumb followed the curve of her lip. She kissed Sharon's fingertip. 

Once. Twice. 

Her hands found Sharon's. Their fingers laced together. Effortless. They didn't have to think about it. Didn't want to. Their hands just fit. Brenda's fingers caressed the back of Sharon's hand. She wanted to hold on. Wanted so much more. Now. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Always.

"Sharon..."

Sharon's breath was warm against her face. "I know..."

The knock on the door made then jump apart. It swung open a second later and David Gabriel appeared. 

"Chief? We've got something you need to see."

"OK, Sergeant." 

Brenda turned on her heel and headed for the door. She turned just before leaving, felt Sharon's eyes burning into her back. The brunette stood where Brenda has stood mere moments ago, looking at her. Her eyes said more than words ever could. Brenda saw regret. She saw loss.

She felt the same.

 

**III**

The elevator came to a stop with a heavy jolt. Something creaked, like metal scraping against metal. The lights flickered and then went out. Darkness briefly engulfed the small space before the emergency light on the panel began to flicker, briefly cutting through the darkness with a couple of orange flashes only to then die. Only darkness remained.

"Oh for heaven’s sake!" Brenda sighed and slammed her hand against the panel. "What happened?!"

Sharon rested herself against the elevator wall. The metal felt cool against her skin and she released her breath and relished in the cold sensation against the palm of her hands. She was trapped in a small, dark space with Brenda Leigh Johnson. She needed all the help she could get to keep cool. "I think the elevator broke down."

"Really? Is that your professional observation, Captain?" 

Even though she could barely see Brenda, Sharon could feel the way the blonde glared at her. She rolled her eyes, safe in the knowledge Brenda couldn't scold her for it, but didn't answer. 

"How long do you think it'll be before they fix it?" Brenda wondered.

"Not too long, I hope." It sounded bitterer than she had intended.

"Why Capt'n Raydor, you don't have a problem with small spaces, do you?"

Sharon could almost taste the venom in Brenda's voice. She straightened herself up. She knew Brenda was trying to antagonise her. "It isn't the small space I have a problem with, Chief." She put an emphasis on the last word and didn't miss the soft huff that came from the other side of the elevator.

"I guess we won't be goin' to that meetin' with Chief Pope after all," Brenda stated. 

Sharon couldn't suppress a smile. "Something tells me you don't really mind, Chief."

"Now why would you say that?" But Brenda smiled too. "He was probably just gonna tell me to play nice in this investigation anyway. It ain't anythin' I haven't heard before."

"I'm sure it isn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that, you know, Chief Pope occasionally has to remind you that..."

"What? That despite everythin' he's still my boss even though he'd sell me out the second he got the chance?" Brenda replied sharply. "Yeah, I'm well aware of that, thank you. I've known Chief Pope a long time."

"Chief?" Sharon asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Is it goin' to get me in trouble?"

"That depends, I suppose,"  
Sharon answered. She heard Brenda move closer. One step. Two steps. Felt Brenda's arm against her own. Damnit. "On how you answer."

"Well, I'm used to gettin' into trouble so fire away, Captain."

"What on Earth did you see in that man?"

Brenda stood nailed to the floor. Did Sharon Raydor just really ask her a personal question about her relationship with Chief Pope? She knew Sharon knew, everyone in the building knew, and Sharon had asked her about it when she interviewed Brenda for the position of Chief of Police, but this was different. This wasn't Sharon as a professional asking that question. 

"You know, a few years ago I might have answered that with some in depth stuff but now..." Brenda ran her hand through her hair. "Now I just don't know."

"Sometimes the people we used to love change so much we don't recognise them anymore."

Brenda turned her head, could make out Sharon's features in the dark elevator space. She was looking at Brenda. "You don't strike me as the type to go all philosophical on me, Captain."

"Sharon," Sharon corrected her. "If we're going to be stuck in here for a while, you might as well call me Sharon."

The life jolted again and Brenda lost her balance. She searched for something to hold onto, something to support herself, and found Sharon's arm. The older woman's arm slipped around Brenda's waist, held her up, and pressed her against her chest while the elevator continued to jolt and creak. Brenda burrowed her face in the crook of Sharon's neck. The sensation of falling, of the elevator falling, continued. Were they moving again? But then the elevator froze again, with an even more sickening creak as before, and Sharon's grip on Brenda tightened.

"Sorry," Brenda whispered and she clumsily tried to step away from Sharon. She felt warm, hot even, and couldn't bring herself to look at Sharon. Her skin burnt where the other woman touched her.

Sharon's hands were still on her hips. They followed the slight curve towards her stomach, slowly further upwards to her arms. Neither of them moved away. Brenda's arms were still wrapped around Sharon's neck, their faces only inches apart. She could feel Sharon breathing against her skin, felt her fingers creep up along her body. Her own hands found thick, brown locks. 

"Brenda," Sharon whispered. "I am going to kiss you. I'm telling you so you can decide what to do."

Brenda squinted and in the darkness she saw Sharon's lips come closer. Felt them brush against her cheek for the briefest of seconds. She held her breath and prayed Sharon couldn't hear the thundering of her heart. Her fingers laced through Sharon's hair, caressed the back of her neck. She felt the other woman's body press against her own. A perfect fit.

She'd always wondered if they'd fit together. She'd watch Sharon from across the Murder Room, wondered about the secrets that lay hidden beneath those pencil skirts and silk blouses. She'd fantasised about Sharon's hands when she was in the shower, imagined them touching her when she touched herself. 

The tension between her and Sharon had been palpable for weeks and Brenda hadn't understood why. She did her best to hide the way she felt, which made her even more edgy than normal, but Sharon had been downright horrible. 

Brenda would never have dared acting on how she felt. She could hear her parents' voices of disapproval in the back of her mind. Not because Sharon was a woman but because she, Brenda, was married and that vow was sacred. Well, to most people anyway. Right now, in the hot, small, dark space of the elevator, Brenda didn't care about sacred. 

Sharon's lips almost touched her own when suddenly the light came back on and the elevator started moving again. 

Brenda stared at Sharon, bewildered; the other woman's hands were on her arms and her own hands still tangled in Sharon's hair. Their gazes locked, their mouth only inches apart and the air was thick with tension. Both women could hear their own heartbeat pounding in their ears and then... Then it was over.

Brenda took a step back, smoothed over her sweater and licked her suddenly very dry lips. When she dared to look at Sharon she was the same confused expression, the same startled look... But also the same hurt. It seemed that in the darkness they had both been prepared to face what they avoided in the light of day.

The elevator doors slid open when they reached the next floor and Sharon bolted out of the small space, didn't even turn around, didn't seem to care that this was not the floor where Chief Pope's office was and she was about to walk into Vice's squad room. 

Brenda watched, her chest aching, as the doors slid closed and Sharon disappeared from sight. 

 

**IV**

"This is a really bad idea."

Brenda had to almost shout to make herself heard over the loud bass blasting from the speakers. Around her, bodies moved to the rhythm of the music. She fixed her eyes on her companion, still in disbelief she actually found herself in this situation.

Sharon looked back at her. Brenda hadn't quite gotten used to her without her glasses yet. She was drawn to those bright green eyes. She'd never noticed just how intense they were until now. And that was only one of the things she'd never noticed before. In the black dress Sharon wore, her legs seemed to go on forever. She wore knee length leather boots and the dress revealed a deep cleavage.

"I couldn't agree more," Sharon agreed. "But it was between me and McGinnis from SOB and Chief Pope felt that we...." She seemed to search for the right words. "Were better matched."

Brenda was still dumbfounded that she she actually been roped into this undercover operation with Sharon Raydor. Across the room, at the bar, Andy Flynn was watching them. Behind the bar, Julio Sanchez was too. Outside, in the van, were Provenza and Tao with Buzz. There were cameras everywhere. They weren't going to leave without their suspect tonight but it would require the pair of them to work together. 

Brenda groaned when an elbow was jabbed into her side and she was pushed forward, into Sharon's personal space. The dance floor was cramped and hot. Too many bodies, she thought. She was about to step back when, to her surprise, Sharon took her hand and pulled her closer until their bodies were flush together, Sharon's hand on her hip.

"What are you doing?!" Brenda hissed into Sharon's ear.

"We are supposed to be together,"  
Sharon reminded her. Her hand moved from Brenda's hip to her lower back and somehow she got their bodies to follow the same rhythm. "But you were doing an excellent job at making it look like you could strangle me, Chief."

Brenda's lips were close to Sharon's ear. "Oh for heavens sake!" But she let an arm slide around Sharon's waist anyway, felt Sharon's body settle against her own. Her breath hitched and for s moment she couldn't see straight. They moved effortlessly to the beat, their bodies wrapped up around each other. The beat pounded in Brenda's ears. 

Feeling Sharon's body pressed against her own, the curve of the other woman's breasts against her chest, was almost intoxicating. Brenda was aware of her own arousal. She'd grown used to it. She had recognised the desire months ago, when she first laid eyes on Sharon Raydor, and since then it had only grown. Up until this moment she had been able to keep enough distance, both professionally and physically, but now every possible line had been crossed. 

Brenda's hands settled on Sharon's hips. Their gazes locked and Brenda almost lost herself in Sharon's green eyes, observed the dilated pupils, the dark and hungry look. Their bodies still moved, Brenda's leg now between Sharon's. She never took her eyes off the older woman; she searched and found what she was looking for. Recognition.

They'd moved further towards the back of the dance floor, out of Andy Flynn's line of sight, and deeper into the shadows. Sharon's fingers now caressed the round shape of Brenda's ass as they danced, their bodies swaying together. She jerked a little when Brenda's knee settled a little firmer between her legs, bit down on her tongue when an electric shock traveled through her core and when Brenda's hand dropped down to her thigh, fingering the hem of her dress, Sharon let go. 

Brenda's knee pressed harder still against her center, brown eyes flickering with desire. She licked her lips and moved closer, until she was so close she could almost kiss Sharon. Warm lips hovered over the older woman's cheeks, towards the corner of her mouth. She felt how Sharon moved against her, was fully aware of what was happening.

"Chief?!" Her head jerked when she heard David Gabriel's voice in the small earpiece she wore and she moved away from Sharon as if stung by a bee. "Chief, it's on!"

She looked at the brunette and then they both turned, Sharon already having pulled her gun from... Well, from wherever she kept it in a dress like that, and they abandoned the dance floor and headed towards the front door.

 

**V**

The conference room was quiet and a welcome haven of tranquility after the madness and noise in the Murder Room. She could still hear the celebrations down the hall but couldn't quite face their happy faces any longer. She knew she had to go back there, they had brought champagne after all, but it could wait. She was tired. Her bones were aching. She just needed a moment, a place, where she could be alone. 

Brenda looked up when there was a soft knock on the door and watched Sharon walk into the room.

"Chief, are you?" Sharon took in Brenda's expression. She stood in the doorway, unsure of whether to walk over to the table where Brenda sat, or whether to leave.

"I'm fine, Capt'n." Brenda frowned, then corrected herself. "Sharon. I'm fine, Sharon."

Sharon closed the door behind her and crossed the room. She didn't sit down. She ran her hands over her purple blazer, smoothing out some invisible creases and said, "I just wanted to say how happy I am that everything came to a good end."

"Mainly thanks to you," Brenda replied and pushed herself out of her chair. Brown eyes found green. "I owe you a lot, Sharon. I don't know how things would've ended if it hadn't been for you."

"Glad I could help." Sharon flashed a little smile. "Now, you'll be pleased to know that I'll be out of your hair from here on out."

Brenda grinned. "Who knows, I may actually end up missin' you."

It was as if something shifted in the air and the two women looked at each for for a few moments, both looking for something to say but words failed them. Brenda instead extended her hand and waited.

Sharon took Brenda's hand. It was warm and soft. She shivered and froze when the younger woman's fingers grazed the inside of her palm but when she accepted Brenda's hand fully into her own. She froze again when Brenda moved closer and slowly wrapped her arms around Sharon's neck, pulling her into an embrace.

"I wouldn't be standin' here if it weren't for you," Brenda sighed and rested her chin on Sharon's shoulder. She relaxed in the brunette's arms, felt Sharon's hands settle on her lower back. 

A year ago she couldn't have imagined standing here like this but a year ago she wouldn't have expected Sharon Raydor trying to help her and protect her. She knew she owed her, would probably always owe her. It was a debt she was willing to repay.

Sharon sighed into Brenda's hair. "You're welcome, Brenda," she whispered. "I'm glad I could help."

They parted slightly, enough to be able to look each other in the eye. Sharon knew that Brenda knew. Brenda knew that Sharon knew. It would end here. Whatever they had, whatever it had been, that unspoken thing, it ended here. They wouldn't look at each other the same way again, wouldn't be able to ever pretend these few months hadn't happened. They would part their ways like friends who would go back to being strangers because if they didn't, they would meet again, at another time, and they would cross that line.

Sharon leaned in, slowly, and pressed her lips to the corner of Brenda's mouth. Soft, warm and gone too soon. She smiled as she let Brenda's hands slip out of her own and headed for the door.

"Sharon?" Brenda called her back and Sharon turned around.

"Hmmm?"

"I meant what I said." Brenda looked almost helpless, as if she was prepared to plead for Sharon to stay.

"What's that?"

It hurt to say it. "I'm going to miss you."

 

**VI**  
**(and one time they did)**

Hands were everywhere. Fingers grazed against the flesh of her stomach, climbed up further underneath her shirt, popping buttons as they went. Heat radiated through her, coursed through her veins and settled in the pit of her stomach. She hungrily brought their lips back together for another searing kiss, pressing her body tighter against that of her lover. 

There was very little room to move in the front seat of the car and the steering wheel was prodding into her back whenever she leaned too far backwards. 

Brenda looked down at Sharon. Sharon had driven her home after a late night at work, followed by drinks at a bar around the corner. She’d accepted the brunette’s offer for a ride home because she’d left her car at Parker Centre and they’d pulled up on her driveway fifteen minutes ago. Brenda had said goodbye, had rested her hand on Sharon’s knee to emphasise her appreciation when she said ‘thank you for a lovely evenin’, and then she’d kissed her.

Sharon had kissed her back, passionately, and Brenda had climbed over onto the driver’s seat, placing herself on Sharon’s lap, a knee on each side of the brunette’s waist, effectively trapping her in her seat. Sharon’s hands were now on her bare shoulders, having unbuttoned the white blouse Brenda wore, and her fingers were hooked behind the straps of her bra. Brenda felt the arousal between her legs ticking to her thighs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Sharon husked. She was breathing heavy and looked up at Brenda with her impossible green eyes. “Brenda…”  
“Sssh,” Brenda whispered and covered Sharon’s lips with her own. 

“You’re married,” Sharon insisted and pushed Brenda away. “Brenda, you’re married.” She said it again, louder this time, in an attempt to remind the younger woman of what it was she was doing. She didn’t want this to end, but she had to give Brenda the choice. 

Brenda didn’t answer. Instead she dragged her tongue along Sharon’s neck, circling her pulse point. Sharon’s head fall back and she moaned softly.

“Brenda, your husband….”

“Is in DC for the next three days,” Brenda finished Sharon’s sentence. Lust filled brown eyes looked down at Sharon and she smirked almost deviously. 

“Now, are we going to do this in your car or do you want to come inside?”


	5. Five Times Brenda And Sharon Had Dinner

**I**

It is a relief to escape from the duplex, to finally not be able to hear her husband's nagging voice. Fritz's constant going on about how she had put her life on the line, had deliberately put herself in harm's way, had infuriated her. How could he not understand that she did what she had to do to safe Marisol's life?! Could he not see this? Had he not seen the same things she had tonight?

She hadn't really known where she was going, didn't have a particular aim, so now that she finds herself sitting in her car across the road from a small house in a quiet suburban street, Brenda was actually surprised. Of all the places she could have gone, she has ended up here. Outside Sharon Raydor's door. Well, almost… She is actually on her driveway but a few metres didn't matter.

When Captain Raydor had come into her office earlier tonight, Brenda had been surprised. She knew that because Fritz shot their suspect, FID wasn't involved. She was even more surprised to find Sharon handed her the application form for the position of Chief of Police. She'd even filled it in for her. Brenda still didn't know how it made her feel.

She gets out of her car and walks up the driveway to the front door. The porch light is on and for a moment she hesitates. She and Sharon Raydor aren't exactly friends. She finds the FID Captain obnoxious and extremely irritating. Neither of those explain why Brenda finds herself standing on Sharon's porch at nine o'clock at night.

She knocks the door and waits, chews her bottom lip. She is about to turn around when the hall light comes on and Brenda sees someone walk towards the door.

Suddenly she panics. She doesn't know if Sharon was living with someone. What if her husband answers the door?! What if she has company?! It is too late to walk away now, whoever is on the other side of the door will already have seen her shape through the frosted glass, but Brenda realises she really has not thought this through. She is beginning to notice a pattern with that recently...

The door opens and reveals Sharon Raydor, dressed in grey yoga pants and a zip up hoodie. Her brown locks are bound back in a ponytail and she isn't wearing her glasses. For a moment she seems surprised to see Brenda standing on her porch but then she relaxes and leans against the door.

"Chief Johnson," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Why do you think I would be a good Chief of Police?" Brenda blurts. "You don't even like me."

Sharon blinks. Has Brenda really come here to ask her this?

"It isn't about whether I like you, Chief. It's about..." A pause. "Well, about change, I suppose. I believe the world is ready for it. And you being Chief of Police would definitely be a change, don't you think?"

Brenda stared at Sharon. "You really believe I've got a shot?"

"Something tells me you didn't come here to talk about me wanting you to apply for Chief of Police," Sharon guesses and when she notices Brenda worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she knows she is right. She steps aside, revealing the hallway and continues, "I suppose you'd better come in."

Brenda walks into Sharon's hallway and hears the door close behind her. She looks down at the floor. Polished wood. It looks expensive. She hadn't expected anything less.

"Shoes off, please," Sharon says and only then does Brenda notice that Sharon is bare foot.

She kicks off her shoes, abandons them by the front door and ignores Sharon's eye roll, and follows the older woman into the house.

"I was about to have dinner. Have you eaten?" Sharon turns around when they reach the kitchen. Brenda spots the various boxes of take out and smirks.

"Why, Capt'n Raydor. You don't strike me as the type to like greasy Chinese food."

Sharon cocks her head a little, green eyes sizing Brenda up. "And what type do you think I am, exactly?" She watches Brenda's cheeks flush pink. "It's Thai, actually. Would you like some? There's enough to share."

It feels odd, standing in Sharon's kitchen. She feels like she doesn't belong here. It is strange to watch her take a second plate from the cupboard and put it down. Brenda feels like she has invaded Sharon's privacy and that she has somehow crossed some invisible line. She considers just turning around and leaving.

"Could you get the wine from the fridge?" Sharon asks, snapping the blonde out of her reverie and Brenda opens the fridge and finds the bottle of white wine in the door. It has been opened but is still quite full. Not her favourite, she prefers red, but since she has just turned up at Sharon's doorstep without warning, Brenda doesn't say anything.

Sharon carries the plates and the food to the table and comes back to fetch the glasses and the wine. She notices Brenda hasn't moved, stands in the middle of her kitchen, staring at the other woman. Sharon leans against the counter, wineglass in hand.

"Believe me, Chief, you're not the first person to turn up at my door because they're running away from something."

"I'm not runnin'..." Brenda begins to defend herself but then she sighs. What is it about this woman? How can Sharon see through her so easily? She has to admit Sharon is right. Why else would she have turned up at the door of someone she wouldn't even call a friend?

"Fritz is doin' my head in and I... I didn't know where else to go." She looks up at Sharon and is struck just by how green her eyes are. How has she never noticed the colour before? Sharon's glasses see to hide just how beautiful her eyes are and Brenda thinks she should take them off more often. The glasses make Sharon look more severe. She wonders if Sharon thinks she's pathetic for coming here because Brenda certainly feels pathetic.

"I'm sorry for turnin' up like this. Its bad manners. My Mama would be mortified."

"Agent Howard." Sharon ignores the part about Brenda's mother and her Southern manners and brings the conversation back to the reason Brenda is here. "What happened?"

"He just keeps sayin' that I was reckless. He doesn't seem to understand I did what I had to do." Brenda shakes her head and starts pacing. Sharon's gaze drops down to the Chief's bare feet. "He knew what he was gettin' when he married me. He said he understood, said he didn't mind. But then he says things like this and I just feel… like…. Like he…"

"Like he doesn't understand?" Sharon finishes Brenda's sentence and the blonde looks up, surprised. Sharon smiles. "You saved Marisol's life. You saved the lives of all those girls. They would all be dead if not for you." Sharon's voice is soft, the way it was in Brenda's office only hours earlier. "You showed great bravery, Brenda."

It is the first time she's called her Brenda.

"Bravery is what gets you killed," Brenda mutters and Sharon wonders just how much of what Agent Howard has said to his wife has hit home. She notices the way Brenda's shoulders slump a bit, feels regret settle in the pit of her stomach.

Sharon pushes herself away from the counter and briefly puts a hand on Brenda's arm. "Bravery is what makes you stand out." She lets her hand rest there for just another moment, just another second. Long enough for green eyes to find brown ones and then she says "Come. Let's eat. I'm not in the mood for a cold green curry."

Brenda follows Sharon to the dining table and slips into the seat across from where Sharon sits. She watches as Sharon pours the wine and begins arranging the cartons. Sharon has taken out separate spoons for each carton. Figures, Brenda thinks. It is very like Sharon not to use one thing for another. Whenever she orders take out, Brenda uses the same fork for everything. It definitely helps with the amount of dirty dishes she is left with at the end of the meal.

They eat in silence, don't talk about the events of the day or the reason why Brenda has turned up here because Brenda doesn't want to admit that she has run away from her marital home and Sharon doesn't want to admit that she actually enjoys having Brenda here or that Brenda will eventually have to leave. Because it's nice not to be alone, to have someone to share the wine with, to see someone smiling at her when she looks up.

Brenda believes that Thai food has never tasted better.

When Brenda comes home it is close to midnight and Fritz is still sitting in the living room, in the exact same place where she'd left him. He's watching the sports highlights. She spots the empty pizza box on top the recycling stuff and suppresses a grin. She'd have Thai food over pizza any day.

"Where have you been?" he asks. His voice still carries that accusatory tone and she knows nothing had changed.

Brenda doesn't answer and closes the bedroom door behind her. Fritz never comes to bed,

**II**

The working lunch Sharon had proposed after closing the case became a working dinner and was rescheduled twice. Once because Brenda's division rolled out to a double homicide and once because Sharon had to attend a scene where an off duty police officer, or 'idiot' as Sharon had called him, had emptied his entire service weapon into his mother-in-law's front door. But tonight's reservations has actually worked out and so it happens that Brenda finds herself sitting across from Sharon at a table near the back of a small Italian restaurant four blocks from the office.

"Wine?" Sharon offers as she hands the menu to Brenda. The waiter has appeared at their table to take their drinks order.

"Merlot, please," Brenda replies.

Sharon says she'll have the same and the waiter disappears. Something twitches in Brenda's belly. Something she can't explain. She lowers her gaze down to the menu and studies the choices on offer. Tries to make a decision. Italian isn't exactly her favourite food but Sharon made the reservations and Brenda is trying to make things work between them so she went along with it.

She chooses the lasagne and Sharon opts for a salad. Brenda instantly regrets having chosen carbs. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She feels self-conscious. It is barely six o'clock. The day's been long and Brenda's body bears the signs. Her blazer is wrinkled and there's a coffee stain on her skirt. Sharon, on the other hand, looks as prim and proper as always.

"So," Brenda begins. She wipes her hands on her skirt underneath the table. They're clammy. She doesn't know why. She's sat across the table from murderers and didn't feel a thing. Then why is she nervous?

"You uhm… wanted to talk about working out a way for FID and Major Crimes to better share their cases?"

"Yes," Sharon answers and she smiles.

Brenda wonders if Sharon's smile has always been this bright and is caught off guard by her own thought.

"I was just thinking that there has to be a way that sees us working together in a more…" Sharon purses her lips as she tries to think of the right word. "…effective way. Don't you agree?"

Brenda's gaze has dropped down to Sharon's lips and she only realises the brunette isn't talking anymore because her lips don't move. She looks up, slowly, and sees Sharon watching her, knows she's seen Brenda look at her mouth. Something's changed about her, Brenda notices. Something in her eyes. They seem darker. More intense, like her pupils have dilated a little.

"Yes," Brenda says, hoping that she's given the right answer. When she sees Sharon smile, she knows she got it right. It gives her enough time to slip back into her usual character. She straightens her spine, puts a hand on the table. Feels strengthened somehow.

"Ok."

Sharon leans back in her chair a bit and the waiter returns with their drinks at that same moment, puts the wine glasses down and asks if there's anything else he can help them with. Sharon answers a quiet, 'no' and he disappears. Now it's just her and Brenda again.

Brenda wonders if there's anything else to say. She doesn't know how Sharon visualises their new working agreement, doesn't know how she expects it to work. FID shows up when cops fire their gun, usually this means they get in Major Crimes' way. If Sharon believes they can work together more efficiently, the only way Brenda can see is for Sharon to stay away from her crime scenes.

"Do you have any plans for Christmas?"

Sharon's question is casual and catches Brenda by surprise. She's just taken a large gulp of her wine and swallows it. The alcohol burns down the back of her throat. Then she looks at Sharon. Sharon's not looking at her, is studying the content of her glass instead.

"Just my Mama and Daddy coming to Los Angeles," Brenda replies. She's not very good at small talk when it isn't for a case. She shifts in her seat, feels like she wants to make an effort. Get it right somehow. "What about you?"

Sharon looks up this time and is positively beaming now. Seems delighted Brenda is taking an interest. "Oh, just visiting my parents in Park City with my children."

"You've got kids?"

"I've got two, actually. Don't look so surprised."

"I'm…" Brenda was going to say she isn't surprised but she is. It is a first glimpse into the life of Sharon Raydor away from FID, away from the imagery of her being a stone cold ice queen. Sharon has a family. She has parents. She has children. She has…

"Are you married?" Brenda blurts out.

"Separated." It sounds matter of fact. Like the topic isn't open for discussion. Brenda knows better than to push. "For more than twenty years. We don't talk much."

Brenda reaches for her wine again. "I'm sorry."

Sharon's eyes held Brenda's and she watched as the blonde brought the glass to her lips, watched how the pink lipstick left a mark against the rim. "I'm not."

Brenda notices Sharon's smile, notices how those green eyes drop down to her lips, sees how Sharon sucks in her bottom lip. And something changes in the air between them. Something shifts and when she feels Sharon's hand very unexpectedly touch her own, the one left on the table, she knows.

Coming out here tonight really wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**III**

"So your daughter is dancing in New York this month?" Brenda asks as she puts the tray on the table. She's careful not to lean over her guest. She drops the oven gloves she's wearing on the counter and turns back to the table and finds Sharon looking at the food displayed on the table. When Brenda called to say she'd cooked and whether Sharon fancied dinner, this wasn't what Sharon expected. The food looks and smells amazing.

"You have to teach me how to make this," Sharon says in admiration. "Brenda, this is fantastic."

Brenda blushes. "It's my Mama's recipe," she grins. "I'll tell her you said that."

They're in Brenda's kitchen and the whole place smells of food. Brenda's wearing jeans, something Sharon has never seen her wear before, and a white tank top. She was barefoot. Sharon herself had opted for a simple pair of slacks and a white Henley shirt, finished off with a pair of black pumps.

When Brenda had mentioned having dinner together only a week after their first get together at the Italian restaurant, she was surprised. She'd expected directions to a restaurant but Brenda had suggested meeting at her house and promised she'd cook. So Sharon had arrived at Brenda's fifteen minutes ago to find the table set for two, a bottle of white wine chilling in the fridge, and Brenda standing over the stove. Sharon hadn't expected Brenda to even know how to cook, let alone something of this standard.

"Well, it ain't the quality of that restaurant we went to last week but it ain't take out either," Brenda jokes, reminding both of them of the evening Brenda had turned up at Sharon's place unannounced and they'd shared Sharon's Thai takeout. It is another reason she has invited Sharon over to the duplex. Brenda has seen Sharon's house. It is only fair Sharon gets to see where she lives.

Brenda slips into her seat and hands Sharon a spoon. "Help yourself," she beams and watches as Sharon adds some fried okra to her plate followed by mashed potato, fried chicken and black eyed peas.

They eat and talk about work, talk about Sharon's children, and talk about work some more. And then Brenda talks about her parents, about growing up in Atlanta, and by the time she reaches her time in the CIA, the bottle of wine she and Sharon have shared is almost empty, the dishes have been moved from the table to the sink and they're still at the dining table. Sharon has kicked off her shoes and they're under the table. Brenda has migrated from the seat across from Sharon to the one next to her and her chin rests in the palm of her hand. Here Sharon is, sitting right in front of her, reading Brenda like she's an open book. Sharon has seen more in one night, with just one look, than even Fritz has in seven years.

She likes to hear Sharon talk, likes to hear her share stories about her family and the life no one knows about. It's like Sharon allows Brenda to be part of the well-kept secret that is her life.

As the hours pass, Sharon seems to relax more and more, speaks more freely and occasionally reaches out to touch Brenda's hand. She thinks it's accidental at first but when Sharon does it again, Brenda realises it's not. The touch leaves her hand warm, her fingers tingling. When Sharon's hand lands on hers for a third time, Brenda manages to entwine their fingers. It's effortless. Neither looks at the other but the conversation stalls.

The door to the house opens at that same moment and Brenda looks up in surprise. Sharon jerks her hand away, lets it fall into her lap, looks anywhere but at Brenda but hears Fritz walks in. She recognises the footsteps of a man even if she hasn't lived with one for some time. The cool gust of evening air brushes past the back of her neck.

Fritz carries a travel bag in his hand and stops in the doorway when he sees his wife sitting at the dining table with Sharon.

"Fritzi!" Brenda leaps out of her chair and hurries over to meet him. Leans in to kiss him but suddenly changes her mind. Pecks him on the cheek instead. Feels Sharon's eyes burn into her back and takes a step back from her husband. "What are you doin' here? I wasn't expectin' you till tomorrow."

If she knew he was going to come home tonight, she wouldn't have asked Sharon to come over.

"We finished early," Fritz states. "I thought I'd surprise you but I see that didn't work out." His eyes fix on Sharon and gives a curd nod. They are on speaking terms but hardly friendly. "Good evening, Captain."

"Agent Howard," Sharon returns the greeting. It's distant and formal. She pushes her chair back and stands up, bends down to pick her shoes up from under the table and slips them on. Feels Fritz's eyes still on her, can almost hear him wondering what she's doing here, why she is having dinner with his wife. When she turns she finds Brenda looking at her too, her eyes wide.

"Brenda, I'll leave you and your husband to catch up," Sharon says. "Thank you so much for the lovely dinner."

"Please, don't leave just yet," Brenda hurries to say, resulting in a scowl from Fritz that she chooses to ignore. Sharon doesn't miss it. Can't ignore it either.

"I… I made a cake. You haven't tried it yet." Brenda then points at the dirty dishes and arches an eyebrow. "And you're leavin' me with all that?!"

"I'm sorry but I don't think I should intrude on your evening," Sharon counters and starts for the door.

When she turns in the doorway she finds Brenda standing right behind her, clearly intent on walking her out. What she sees in Brenda's brown eyes puzzles her. Regret, a sense of loss and something Sharon can't, or won't, put into words. Brenda's hand brushes along hers, she feels the Chief's fingers against her fingers. The touch is soft, like a flutter, and Sharon knows that if she tries hard enough, she can pretend she didn't feel it, that it didn't happen.

"I'll walk you to your car," Brenda says softly and looks back over her shoulder at Fritz. He's just looking at them and Brenda sends him one of her brightest smiles. "I'll be right back, honey."

"Don't bother," Sharon replies. Her voice is colder now, more distant. She's protecting herself, tries to distance herself from Brenda. Coming here was a mistake. "Good night, Chief Johnson."

Brenda watches her walk down the driveway and feels lost when she watches the Captain get into her car. "Good night, Sharon."

**IV**

Sharon's phone bleeps just after lunch time and she sees the text message is from Brenda.

_I've got reservations for me and Fritz tonight but something's come up and he can't make it. I was going to cancel but then I wondered…. I never got to apologise for the other night so maybe you'd like to join me? X_

She looks a moment longer at the x at the end of the text messages and contemplates her reply. She and Brenda have barely seen each other since the night she had dinner at Brenda's. The air between them has been thick with tension and Sharon has done her best to try and stay out of the Chief's way. It seemed that Brenda had done the same. Until now, apparently. Brenda was asking her to go out for dinner to a place where she had intended to go with her husband.

Sharon types her reply before she allows herself to change her mind. _OK. Just let me know where and when and I'll be there._ She doesn't add an x to the end.

That night Sharon meets Brenda at a restaurant just off Mulholland Drive. Brenda is waiting for her outside and Sharon is relieved that she decided to get changed before going out. Brenda is wearing an elegant dark blue dress with a low V-neck that exposes a hint of cleavage. A pearl necklace hangs around her neck and she's pinned up her curls. When Sharon walks towards her she can feel Brenda's eyes on her and silently praises herself for having chosen the red dress she's wearing.

"Hi," Brenda says when Sharon reaches her. "Sharon, you look…." She's lost for words a moment. "Stunning." She blushes when she says it.

"Thank you," Sharon smiles. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Brenda shyly returns the smile. "I'm sorry for draggin' you out here but I made these reservations weeks ago and everyone keeps sayin' how good the food is."

Sharon steps up to the door, opens it and holds it for Brenda. "Well, then maybe we should find out."

They're seated at a small table and a waiter brings them a menu and a wine card. When she looks around her, Sharon sees mainly couples of various ages. The odd group of four, most likely a double date or old friends enjoying dinner, complete the ensemble of guests and when she looks back at Brenda, she finds the blonde studying the menu with great interest.

"Brenda?" she calls the younger woman's name softly.

"Yes?" Brenda doesn't look at her.

"Thank you for asking me to join you."

Now Brenda looks up and Sharon sees the flames of the two small candles on the table reflect in Brenda's eyes. Brenda has never looked more beautiful than she does right now, Sharon realises. She is about to open her mouth to speak when the waiter approaches their table again and focus on Brenda.

"You requested the anniversary special, ma'am?"

Brenda eyes snap up and she turns a deep shade of scarlet. "Uh," she stammers. "Scratch that." She can't look at Sharon. Can't even look the waiter in the eye when he makes a confused sound but then walks away. She stared back at the menu even though she's already decided she's going to have steak. Her heart thunders in her chest and she suddenly feels sick and desperate for fresh air.

"Brenda." Sharon gets no reaction. "Bren-da." She says it sharper this time.

"What?" Brenda hisses. Her cheeks are still flushed.

Sharon's green eyes are fixed on Brenda. She stares at her intently. "Please tell me you did _not_ ask me to be your companion to a restaurant you had planned to go with your husband for your _anniversary_."

"Want me to lie?" Brenda huffs.

"Brenda!" Sharon's shocked. But then realisation kicks in. She begins to understand, can see the hurt now flickering behind Brenda's eyes, the hurt she'd been trying to hide when she smiled at Sharon outside and thanked her for coming. She regrets her outburst and reaches over the table. Brenda's hand is soft and warm. "Oh Brenda, what happened?"

"We had a fight."

It was more like an explosion. It had started early that morning when Brenda was getting ready for work. It had been over something stupid, Brenda couldn't even remember what it was, and then it turned into another one of their famous shouting matches. The type that resulted in the neighbours looking at her when she went to work the next day. They'd both shouted accusations, had thrown insults and like always it had come back down to Fritz thinking she was too selfish and didn't care enough about his side of the story and Brenda saying that Fritz wanted her to be something he knew very well she could never be.

She'd stormed out after saying, "You knew what you signed up for if you married me. If you don't like it, you know what to do."

She hadn't heard from him since and tried not to care.

She had offered Fritz an out. Had offered it to him more than once. She had never quite been what he wanted. She wasn't the housewife he imagined he'd spend the rest of his life with. He'd always rubbed that in. Seven years into their relationship and he still doesn't know her, still tries to change her.

And today was the first time she asked herself why didn't she offer herself the out? Why didn't she ever ask what it was she wanted? Really, really wanted? And in that moment she had picked up her phone and sent a message to Sharon.

"I'm so sorry," Sharon says softly and runs her thumb over the back of Brenda's hand.

"It's OK." Brenda means it. "Really, Sharon." She looks at Sharon's hand on hers. Wishes she keeps it there. And Sharon does. She laces her fingers through Brenda's the way Brenda had done a week earlier. She only pulls back her hand when their food is brought to the table.

When Fritz walks into the restaurant, still fumbling with his tie, he sees Brenda sitting at their table. Sees her laughing. Sees how she smiles, can see the happiness on her face. And he sees Sharon Raydor holding Brenda's hand, being the one that makes her smile. Sees how Sharon leans in and touches Brenda's cheek. He turns around and steps back into the cool Los Angeles night.

He hasn't made Brenda smile for a long time.

**V**

"Sharon, come on!" Brenda bounces from her left foot onto her right and smacks the palm of her hand against the door again. "Sharon, open the damn door! I've gotta pee!"

The door swings open and Brenda shoves the plastic bag from her favourite Cuban restaurant into Sharon's arms, pushes past her into the house and makes her way straight to the bathroom.

Sharon's in the kitchen when Brenda walks in and Sharon gives the blonde a once over, concern etched over her face. "What on Earth are you doin here? You've been up for almost thirty-six hours!"

Brenda placed her hands on her hips and smiled triumphantly. "I did it."

Sharon arches an eyebrow. "Did what?"

"Signed the divorce papers."

**VI**  
**(and one time they didn't)**

Brenda answers the door and lets Sharon in.

"Hi."

"Hey." Sharon holds up a bottle of champagne. "I thought this seemed appropriate."

"Celebratin' my divorce with champagne?" Brenda quirks an eyebrow. "Charmin', Sharon."

Sharon follows Brenda into the kitchen of her new apartment, the one Sharon helped her choose and paint, puts the bottle on the counter and leans against it, arms in front of her chest.

"You have no idea how charming I can be."

Brenda's head whips up at that comment. She detects the undertone immediately. She and Sharon been dancing around each for months now, inching ever closer to what they both know is inevitable. She puts down the fork she was using to smooth out the mashed potato on top of the pie and circles around until she's two steps away from Sharon.

"Don't I?" she purrs. She gazes at Sharon with dark, lust filled eyes. "Then why don't you show me just how charmin' you can be?"

Sharon leans in and captures Brenda's lips, pulls her closer and envelops her in her arms. Brenda's arms slide up around Sharon's neck and she relaxes into the kiss, gives herself completely to Sharon and moans softly when she feels Sharon's tongue slip into mouth and meets it with her own.

When they finally part because the need for oxygen becomes too great, Sharon smiles against Brenda's lips and takes her hand.

"Forget about dinner," she whispers. "I can think of better things I want to taste."

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to write five of these pieces, each with five little scenarios. Enjoy.


End file.
